


Boysenberries

by pippen2112



Series: RvB Smut Week 2k18 [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Affectionate Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, bottom Locus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: For their anniversary, Sam and Michael explore their relationship.Written for Rare Pair Day for RvB Smut Week 2018





	Boysenberries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConfessionForAnotherTime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/gifts).



> Special thanks to QueSeraAwesome for beta reading and to ConfessionForAnotherTime for bringing this pairing into my life. I love her take on Loboose. So. Much.

They make out in the elevator after dinner, hungry for each other’s touch. Sam licks up Michael’s throat, his hands rucking up his shirt searching out warm, smooth skin. Michael groans, arching against him, completely unabashed. There could be a dozen other people in the elevator with them and Sam wouldn’t know. Not when Michael’s smiling at him.

He half-leads, half-carries Michael down the hall to their room. Michael pulls the key out of his hands, teasing as he turns in his arms and rolls his ass back against Sam. “Tell me something different,” Michael says, calm as he unlocks the door despite Sam presses kisses to his neck.

Humming, Sam walks them inside and kicks the door closed behind them, not stilling his quest to run his hands over every inch of Michael’s skin. “Different?”

“Yeah, you know,” Michael goes on, steering them toward the enormous bed, “like how Church likes it when the mean lady calls him names. Or how Tucker has to have a special jam when he woos ladies. Boysenberry, maybe?” He pauses long enough to run his hands up Sam’s shoulders, gently tugs the elastic loose from his pony tail, and rubs his scalp. Sam sighs, craning back into the pressure. “I wanna know your boysenberries.”

As soon as the words catch up to him, Sam chuckles. Michael has always had a particular way with words, but even after six months of dancing around each other and another six as lovers, he never fails to surprise. And all things considered, Sam should have expected Michael to broach the topic sooner or later. It’s their first anniversary after all, and Sam took off from work and rented them a luxury suite for a long weekend away. Just the two of them. 

Trust Michael to compare broadening their sexual horizons to “boysenberries.”

“I like what we do,” Sam says as he tugs off Michael’s shirt. Most of his partners have been shorter than him, but the fact that Micheal is closer to his build is a relief. He doesn’t have to hold himself back around Michael. He can just be. 

Michael gasps when he dips down to lick along is collar bone. “I do, too. But I like other things too.”

Grinning against his skin, Sam asks. “Like what?”

Michael shakes his head, slipping sideways out of Sam’s arms and dropping heavily on the edge of the bed. When Sam turns to meet him, Michael is staring up at him, his brown eyes oh so open, a broad, lopsided smile on his face. “I asked first.”

Sam looks down at his shoes, at the few feet that separate him from the foot of the bed. From Michael. It’s not far, not by a long shot, but it feels so vast. Insurmountable. But when he looks up and sees Michael grinning at him, waving him closer, Sam’s breath catches in his throat. Openness has never come easy for him, but he can try now. For Michael, he wants to try. 

Swallowing hard, Sam steps closer, pushing his way between Michael’s spread knees and laying his hands on his shoulders. Leaning forward into the touch, Michael practically purrs under his touch, his eyelids drooping as he grins.

“I like touching you,” Sam says softly, starting simple and straightforward. Baby steps toward the deep end. “I like it when you touch me. When you kiss me.” 

Without hesitation, Michael turns his head sideways and presses kiss after kiss to Sam’s forearm. If his chest tightens, he’s the only one who’ll ever know. “What else?”

“I like that I don’t have to second guess myself around you. I don’t have to worry that I’ll hurt you.”

Michael smiles up at him. “Not gonna hurt you either, Sam.”

If his eyes water and his throat constricts, Michael is the only one who’ll see But he won’t judge. Michael never has. 

Sam tucks his chin to his chest, gulping around the lump in his throat. He cups Michael’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone until Michael kisses the digit and sucks it into his mouth. Warmth surrounds him, and a shiver runs up his spine. “I know. I trust you, Michael. I trust you more than I could ever imagine. I trust you to—” He cut himself off, the words heavy in his throat.

Peering up at him with his head cocked to the side, Michael released his thumb. “Trust me to what, Sam?”

Pulse throbbing in his ears, Sam lets out a long breath. He can do this. He can let himself be vulnerable, be open, be brave. He kneels between Michael’s knees and presses their foreheads together. “I want to feel you inside me, Michael. If… if you’d like to.”

Michael nearly grins. “Yeah, I’d. I’d like that. Let’s do that!” He grabs Sam under the arms and pulls him up into a firm kiss. All gentle nips and soothing tongue. When he pulls back, he beams down at Sam. “But only if you promise we can go to the grocery store later. All this boysenberry talk made me wanna make you into a sundae.”

Sam blushes. “Just… go slow. Please.”

With firm hands, Michael eases Sam into his lap and scooches them up the bed. He works off Sam’s clothes between searing kisses and teasing touches. Sam shivers when Michael slips out from under him and urges him to lay back. 

The covers beneath his back are crisp and cold, but Michael doesn’t leave him to enjoy the sharp contrast for long. He kneels between Sam’s thighs, nipping at the skin until Sam can’t stop his whines. Its a touch so close to where he wants it but not close enough. He bites his lip to stop his cries.

“I like it when you make noise,” Michael says softly, rubbing his cheek against Sam’s leg. “It tells me you’re happy. That I’m doing a good job.”

Sucking in a breath, Sam props himself up and looks down at Michael sucking marks into his skin. “Do you—” Michael noses his balls, and another soft moan slips from his lips. “Do I ever make you think you don’t?”

Michael makes a considering sound, nibbling at the crease of Sam’s thigh while he thinks. “Sometimes? Not really? You get… You go away sometimes, and you don’t take me with you, which is _not_ very nice. So I have to remind you where we are.”

Before he can think better of it, Sam reaches out and ruffles Michael’s short curls. Michael presses back into his touch for just a moment before turning back to work. He licks a long stripe up the underside of Sam’s cock before laving the head.

Sam’s hips stutter forward, and he groans. His hand twitches in Michael’s hair, half ready to drag him up and put all this teasing to an end, but when he looks down, those big brown eyes are staring up at him, taking in his every reaction. Sam’s breath catches in his chest. “Good. That feels good.” His voice sticks in his throat but he exhales and goes on. “You feel good, Michael.”

Humming contentedly—maddeningly, Sam thinks as the vibrations spread across his glans—Michael sucks him deep, curling his fist around the shaft and working his hand and mouth in conjunction. Sam collapses back on the bed, his lip caught between his teeth, but moans slip out regardless. The mix of hot, wet suction and the rasp of calloused fingers drives him higher and higher. In shockingly little time, he’s perched on the edge, his entire body flushed and his nerves on fire. His eyes squeeze shut. His throat works. “I’m close.”

But where other partners have slowed down to tease him or repositioned and let him sink into them, Michael groans around him, a low sound of need, and sucks more fervently. 

His heart flutters in his chest, pounding in his ears and drowning everything but Michael’s quiet slurps and hums. “Michael, I’m—” he cuts himself off, biting his lip hard, hoping it might stave off his release. But his stomach is a tight knot of want, and his toes curl against the bedspread, and Michael isn’t stopping. Isn’t slowing down. Is beaming up at him, cock halfway down his throat and no signs of stopping.

Sam grunts, his hips bucking forward, his orgasm hitting hard and fast and leaving him twitchy and gasping. Michael grins up at him, swallowing him through the aftershocks. When he’s squirming from overstimulation, he drags Michael up to kiss him. He can taste himself, and his cock pulses and makes a valiant effort to swell again. 

When they break apart, Sam nuzzles against Michael’s cheek, suddenly self-conscious, especially when he can feel Michael’s cock pressing against his hip. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Michael laughs. “Nah, it made you feel good. And it’ll make the next part easier if you feel good.” He tapped Sam’s forehead. “Like Tucker and his boysenberry, remember?”

Sam flushes. He’d been so caught up in his release, he’d forgotten. Suddenly, his heart beats a little quicker and his blood starts a sluggish trek southward. If he were younger, he’d be twitching back to full hardness at the mention alone. Instead, he’s still shrinking into softness, his skin flushed and hypersensitive. 

Michael lays a calm, firm hand on his hip, stroking his thumb across his hip bone. There’s a tightness around his eyes, like he’s faced with a difficult puzzle he’s on the cusp of unraveling. With a grin, Michael kisses him hard before pressing his other hand to Sam’s shoulder. “Lay back down, Sam. Let me take care of you, okay?”

There’s so much care and hope in his words, Sam’s helpless to resist. Throat constricted, he drops back onto the bed, his spine subconsciously tense despite his orgasm. He exhales softly as Michael lays down atop him, pressing their chests together as he presses lazy kisses to Sam’s face, his neck, his collar bones. Periodically, he’ll look up and meet Sam’s gaze, grinning shyly against his skin before turning back to his task. Sam shivers, his spine bowing reflexively when Michael rolls his nipples between his fingers, just the right balance of pressure and pinch. 

Sam gasps. “God, that’s good. Good boy.”

Groaning low in his throat, Michael ruts forward, their groins slotting together, overstimulation needling through his cock. Sam reaches out and pushes Michael up, sighing with relief. Michael pulls back, his brow wrinkled. “Sam?”

“Still too sensitive,” he grits out, his heart sinking at the admission.

Michael purses his lips, his entire face tensing for a moment before he lights up. “Oh, right. Okay, I know what to do!”

Before Sam can ask, Michael kneels back between his legs. He hooks his hands under Sam’s knees and gently pushes them up and toward his chest. Sam’s gut drops as his hips tilt accordingly, and suddenly his ass is a lot more exposed than ever before. He’s more exposed than ever before. He flushes and ducks his head. This is actually about to happen, and he can’t feel his hands, can’t make sense of how this became his life. 

But then there are soft lips against him, Michael leaning over him but taking care not to brush against his groin again. He sighs into the kiss, melting. 

When Michael breaks the kiss, his cheeks are bright pink and he’s grinning that same broad grin that won Sam over the first night at the bar, that continues to win him over and over again. “Keep these up here?”

Heart stuttering in his chest, Sam nods and hold up his legs. Michael cups his cheek and returns to his previous position. He lays kiss after gentle kiss along Sam’s thighs, firm hands kneading his ass cheeks as Michael works his way lower and lower. Sam’s brow wrinkles. _He…Michael, can’t be planning_ —

The thought gets cut off as Michael gently spreads his cheeks and blows a cool stream of air along his hole. Sam can’t stop his needy cries. Michael looks up at him, his gaze equal parts pleased and promising. “Tell me if I need to stop,” he whispers, running his thumb along Sam’s hole before he ducks down and swirls his tongue around the furl.

Sam bucks, his cock twitching to life at his full body tremor. Oh God! Michael is licking him _there._ Small, kittenish laps intercut with long slow sweeps. The sensation feels different and wrong and so much better than he ever could have dreamt. And given the plethora of sounds slipping out of his throat, he sounds every bit as desperate as he feels. Heat flares in his gut with every circle Michael makes, teasing and purposeful and delightful. Sam’s face burns, but he can’t throw an arm over his face to hide, can’t bury his groans in his pillow, can only dig his nails into the flesh under his knees and pray he doesn’t embarrass himself.

And given Michael’s enthusiasm, he’s going to need every ounce of help he can get. But when Michael slurps against his hole and presses the tip of his tongue inside, Sam whimpers and arches into the pressure. “Fuck, Michael, that f-feels…” he trails off.

Michael pulls back for half a second. “Tell me. I wanna hear you.” And then he’s diving back for more, pressing farther into Sam with each flick of his tongue.

Sam throws his head back against the pillow, breathing purposefully and methodically. Talking? Not his favorite thing, but he can do it. For Michael, he’d do anything. “It’s warm. And -- _oh_ \-- wet. But it fe- _eels_ like every… every little shift will make me explo-- _oh_ \--ode.”

After a lingering hum, Michael retreats slightly. He can’t have moved more than an inch, but now he feels so much farther away. Sam’s nerves light at each teasing press. “Nonono, more! Please, Michael, a little more.”

He can practically feel Michael smirking as he pulls back a little farther until just the tip of his tongue traces patterns along his hole. No, he’s not going to let himself be teased. Not right now. Straining his core, Sam lets go of one leg, leans forward, and grabs Michael by the back of his head. 

Michael moans tilting up into Sam’s hand, grinding into the bed as he momentarily loses himself in the touch. But before he can sink too far into his head space, Sam tugs his hair and pushes him back toward his ass. “Don’t tease me,” Sam says, holding Michael in place as he laughs and starts lapping at his hole once more. 

After that, Sam gets lost in the sensation. Before he knows it, Michael works a pair of lubed fingers up his ass, scissoring and squirming until they find his prostate. Sam moans, mouth and legs falling open despite himself. His hand clenches in Michael’s hair reflexively, but Michael groans and hooks his fingers. Want and need skitter across his skin, and Sam is breathless, powerless to contain himself. “Michael, please!” he gasps, grinding down as Michael pushes in another finger. “Want you inside me. Wanna feel you.”

Laughing, Michael looks up at him, his other hand curling around Sam’s hip as he grins. “I _am_ inside you.” To punctuate his point, he circles a finger around Sam’s prostate. 

“Not- _ah!_ ” Sam yelps at the sudden rush of pleasure. He bites his lip, trying to contain his keening. Sucking in breath after breath, he tries again. “Not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Michael’s eyes glitter in the warm light. He leans forward and sucks the bead of precum off the head of Sam’s dick. 

Sam arches into the the fleeting warmth. “Michael!”

“Sam?” All wide-eyed earnestness.

He can’t take this teasing, but he doesn’t know if he could bear to end Michael’s fun. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam whispers, “Fuck me, Michael. I want see how good you feel. All of you.”

For a split second, Michael goes still. If Sam couldn’t still feel those warm fingers pressed flush to his inner walls, he’d think Michael had vanished. But just as he opens his eyes, Michael lets out a low sound of want. He spreads his fingers wide, stretching Sam with one hand while the other smears lube on his cock. Then he shuffles closer on his knees, easing Sam’s lower back up onto his lap. Sam feel heat against his hole, hotter and fatter than Michael’s fingers, and he gulps.

Michael stops. He wipes off his lube slick hand on the bedspread and slides his hand around the back of Sam’s neck, his thumb pressing circles into Sam’s hairline. “Don’t be scared, Sam. I’m not gonna hurt you, but if I do, say the word, and we’ll find something different. There are more jams out there.”

“I know, Michael.” Sam tilts his head and kisses Michael’s forearm. “I trust you.”

Michael smiles down at him. With careful hands and smooth movements, Michael presses into him.

Sam tenses automatically but reminds himself to unclench and bear down. Slowly, oh so slowly, Michael sinks into him. The weight is warm and hefty and uncomfortable, though not as much as he expected. The angle is strange, close but not quite right. Still, feeling Michael sigh and shiver over him, his hips twitching with desire to rut and thrust but held in check, it’s a heady, powerful feeling. Before he can stop himself, Sam hooks a leg around Michael’s hip and tugs him down until they’re pressed together. Michael catches himself on his elbows, his big brown eyes blown wide, wider than Sam’s ever seen them.

“Sam?” Michael asks, his voice reedy and uncertain.

His eyes water from all the emotions swimming in his chest. Sam smiles up at him, shy and small, before he rocks up, letting Michael slide into him to the hilt. “Fuck me. Please.”

And Michael bites his lower lip, nods, and does just as Sam asks. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, and concrit welcome. Come scream with me on Tumblr (birdsbeesandlemonadetrees.tumblr.com)


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